top of page
  • Gary Hunter

The Poetry Reading - Jan. 22, 2023

before it begins

voices sift between the seated

like forest sounds at night

a pair of too loud laughs

cuts through the mumble

torsos twist on metal seats

late comers apologize for

brushing legs to get to theirs’s

a microphone is tapped twice

then a silence


like rain that is about to fall

or the moon about to rise

or a door about to open

or a word about to be spoken


this poem is about that

that hovering moment

air crackling with anticipation

all eyes crystallize on

the speaker approaching

the lectern


if you could stand up here

and see what I see


if there’s even words

to describe it

a look of what . . .


a group panning for gold

or a bit of joy

connection


love?

1 view

Recent Posts

See All

yuuuuuuck but when the first ray of sun breaks through everything glistens the first bird song so cheerful and fresh the earth’s fragrance a tea of all it sweetest parts air so crisp and pure it burns

not only do I endlessly scavenge for poetry subjects to scoop up and write about but from another appendage of my brain I’m crafting the same material into skits for Saturday Night Live like dueling t

how comforting the visit of rain on a sleepless night the finger-drumming of drops on the roof of my wakefulness a cold and lonely discourse right above the warm cocoon of my bed and this one speaks t

bottom of page